


The corridors of Dragonstone

by Allenefanfics



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Illicit dreams, Longing, Masturbation, Nudity, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allenefanfics/pseuds/Allenefanfics
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow are swooned by each other, drowning in their illicit desires as they share time together in Dragonstone.





	1. The Dragon Queen

 

As Dany left the small council room thinking about her attack on the Lannister army for the next day, she felt emotionally exhausted. she walked to the dining room as the dinner was being served. Tyrion, Varys and Missandei were seated. Her eyes looked for Jon Snow.

As she sat in her chair looking at the door waiting for him, Tyrion sensed what she’s looking for and before she asked he said “King in the North is dining tonight with your and his soldiers who were mining the dragonglass all day today down on the beach.

He worked with them all day and he thought it’s a good morale to be with them after a hectic day.” and he sipped his wine while stuffing his mouth with another bite of a pork chop.

Dany smiled and said “very well”.  _why is it so difficult to not like this, Jon Snow. He is this rough Northerner who is as stubborn as a mule but at the same time he loves his people and soldiers. why does he have to have a kind heart._  she felt a small knot in her stomach chirping on the thought of  _his face his neck, his hair and his rough voice_ , her eating got slow and smiled to herself like a little maiden girl who had her first encounter with a boy.

She had loved before, married, bedded before but not like this. This is a different form of love as love takes on different forms in different shapes and stages of one’s life. 

After she finished her food, she took her goblet of wine in hand and approached the window of the dining hall, her eyes looking for him. She felt embarrassed of doing so, as if everyone could tell in the room what she’s looking for so she tried be non-chalant about it.

She didn’t know if she was  being successful in hiding her feelings as her heart skipped a bit and jerked from the pace she was standing when she saw him walking to the castle with Ser Davos and laughing and talking with some of his Stark soldiers. 

She lingered in the dining room for a while even after everyone had left, she filled goblet of wine one after the other trying to overcome her emotions and fight them. Things that she didn’t want to feel and didn’t want to admit to herself how much she had grown used to and fond of this man who called him a child, still hadn’t bent the knee and underestimated her on their first encounter.

The castle had grown silence. She had ordered Missandei to go off and that she didn’t need her that night to get ready for her bed. 

Her head was moving in circles as the alcohol had dominated her. She had to wake up early next morning for battle.

She started walking in the corridor to her room, sometimes holding on to the walls to not fall. In the dark corridors she spotted shadows of two men, and to a closer look it was Jon Snow talking to Davos. She didn’t know what they were talking about, she kept herself disguised in the shadows and feeling very ashamed of what she was doing. She was a queen not a silly handmaiden who was lusting after a prince.

Davos left Jon and went to his room across the corridor and Jon continued his way to his chamber. She felt heat running through her forehead and small sweat droplets were dripping down her eye side. She positioned herself to her regular posture of putting her hands intertwined to her front and walked slowly after Jon, not sure what she was going to do next but her instincts wanted to follow him, just to smell his leftover pheromones in the corridors. 

She saw him go into his room but didn’t hear the rough voice of the wooden door closing.

There were no guards in front of his chambers that night as he had told them to sleep and relax. He too was growing used to being in Dragonstone. That sight made Dany happy as he no longer felt threatened that Dany would order him to be killed at night. She stopped in front of his door. breathing heavily, head down to the floor, and wondered what she was doing was complete madness.

She is Daenerys Stromborn and she has never allowed herself to be this vulnerable, dizzy with wine and love. She extended her palms on the door, touched it, feeling Jon’s presence. She wondered of his smell and scent..Her heart was beating so fast, and suddenly she realized that his door was not closed completely when she spotted light coming through the crack of a very small opening. 

Jon wasn’t the type to have maids and servants clothe him or prepare his baths. He would do his chorus on his own after all he had slept and lived in much harsher environments. She pushed her tangled sides of her hair to her back and put her palms on her burning pink cheeks from the wine feeling her heat. She knew it as madness, she knew whatever will happen after pushing that door could be and will be the end of their alliance, bur she did it anyway, she took a step forward knowing she will fall, deeper in love, deeper to the pit of her emotions that she has suppressed in years.

She felt heat rising through her legs to her stomach.

She slowly opened the door without knocking or asking for audience, the door cracked slowly, she prepared herself to see him but he wasn’t there. She came in and slowly left the door cracked open as to not make a sound. His bed was not touched, he had his breast plate on the floor next to his Stark tunic, his boots were neatly aligned next to each other and put beneath the wall and Longclow was leaning towards his bedside. She saw a faint candle light coming from the bath room next chamber, the door was cracked. 

She inhaled his smell and scent hearing the voice of water, she knew he was taking a bath. She slowly leaned to his bed without touching anything, got her face close to the pillow trying to get his smell, and giggled thinking how silly she was and how everyone would laugh and disrespect her seeing what she was doing.The room smelled of his Northern scent, woody, snowy but it still wasn’t enough for her. How did he have this much power on her, she was in his room voluntarily seeking his odor and trails. 

She then shook her head trying to get rid of the thoughts of lust imagining him naked in his bed, touching her, before she left though, on a second thought she approached his bath chamber, and looked through the crack of the door. 

He was standing, his back to her, he had untied his hair with curls falling from the nape of his neck to the beginning of his shoulder, black silky curls that seemed so thick for a man. She saw him take off his grey linen with one motion across his arm and through the top of his head and threw it out on the floor which made his hair get all fuzzy and wild. H

er heart skipped a bit, she turned her head feeling very ashamed of what she was doing. but she continued harvesting every moment of his sight. She was gong to a battle tomorrow, she might die or better yet, she knew Jon Snow didn’t love her, and this was her only chance of seeing him, devouring his view. She noticed how muscular he was.

He seemed so small under his Stark clothes. His back had a trail going down with the shapes of the muscles carved moving with his every motion. He opened his breeches, still his back to hers, he was bare feet, and moved his trousers down quickly as he wanted to get rid of them, and his small clothes underneath followed the trousers. 

Dany gasped and closed her mouth quickly as not to make him hear her. He was naked as his name day with his perfectly shaped muscular buttocks.He took some oils and rubbed his hands with them to his shoulders and legs, and walked to get into the tub. She was so ashamed, with her plump lips and pink cheeks that now were burning with desire, lust and shame.

She turned her head to not to see his manhood because she knew if she sees that part of him she might run in there and throw herself on him. She heard him sit in the tub and wet his hair and relax while releasing a slow moan. Her hands went to her legs and loins as if grasping them hardly would stop her arousal. She looked at him for a while more. He sat there still. Then took a cloth and soap and cleaned his arms and hair. He was not doing anything more ordinary other than men would when they shower.  

But she hadn’t lied with a man for a long time and had forgotten how it feels and this man was there naked with all his glorious pretty hair, pretty face, muscular body that was much paler than she imagined under those black thick curls and hair of the body. 

She was breathing very slowly and panting low, held her arms across with her red cheeks and walked slowly across the room, stumbled on his desk making a creak noise and heard Jon’s voice saying “who is there? Ser Davos?” She was panicking and very quickly left the room without shutting the door behind just as he had left it or had forgotten to close it. 

She ran through the corridor and stayed behind a wall panting with a smile on her silly face. She felt like a little girl just as she used to feel in Braavos when looking at fisherman and their muscular bodies when she would go walking with Viserys.

She never understood then but now she knows, she wanted Jon Snow with everything in her until the very last of him. She heard him open his door and look across the corridor. He was wearing a long grey robe, curls flowing around his head. He turned his head around looking for someone and then shut the door closed and she heard the lock turn as well. She left out a long sigh.

If he knew the dragon queen was there, lusting after him like a handmaiden, he would’ve probably left the island and went back home. 

She entered her room, closing the door and letting out a long exhale while closing her eyes dreaming of his naked body.

She took off her clothes, putting a loose gown on her and climbed under the covers. The effect of the wine had starting to fade as she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed wishing him to be in between her legs. She ran her hands through the insides of her thighs from above her gown and felt her private part that was very wet to her touch. She breathed heavily, closed her eyes and imagined Jon Snow in bed touching her with those rough hands and arms.

She then ran her hands to her breasts feeling them how ripe and pointy her nipples had gotten. She was shameful of her acts nevertheless she wanted him, needed him, his smell that she could faintly remember from his bedsheets, his muscular back and buttocks, how much she would want to squeeze them, run her hands through the silky black curls of his head. she was moving around the bed trying to feel and find her release but whatever she did was with no avail. 

She finally stopped trying, exhaled sharply with her mouth, hugged her bed cover and put some in between her thighs wrapping her legs around it as to have a remote feeling of having a man in there. 

She cursed her luck of finding Jon Snow in a time like this. in a time of war. But he didn’t love her, she was sure of that. He never showed any intimacy or intent other than directing her arm in that cave which she thought was not an indication of anything. Did he think of her when they were not together? she wondered but she knew she should’ve stopped lusting after him. There was a war to think about and no time for things like these. After all her frantic thoughts, she shut her eyes, guiltily still imagining his naked body, until the sleep took her away. 

* * *

Later that night, she woke up and heard someone come into her room. She got seated in her bed. A shadow approached her and it was Jon Snow in his bathrobe with his curls tangling from his sides. she was breathing heavily as he approached her bed 

“Lord Snow, what are you doing here?” Dany asked with surprise. 

“I knew it was you who came into my chambers” he said with a smirky smile on his face still getting close to her next to her bed. Her heart was beating so fast she thought she’ll die right there. her cheeks full with blood red. 

“how…how did you know?” she asked with hesitation and a lump in her throat. “You left your lavender scent in my room after leaving, how would I miss that?” he said with his seductive husky Northern accent and he sat next to her on the bed.

She ran her fingers through his black curls, he took her hands and kissed her wrists. 

“are you mad at me?” she asked in a voice almost a whisper.

He shook his head and quickly took her face in his hands and locked their mouths to each other. Dany couldn’t breathe until he released her mouth to look at her face. She examined him, his rough beard, the woody smell of his sheets was on him, he ran his hands to her breast, squeezed one and she let out a gasp. 

He took off his robe, threw it on the floor, she was too ashamed to look down his body, like a maiden, locked her sight to his face and lied on her back, he climbed on her positioning his arm to not to crush her and ran his other hand down her thighs whilst kissing her neck and her earlobes.

Dany was moving below him burning from his rough caresses and kisses from his full lips that she had long yearned to feel. He was murmuring words to her that she couldn’t catch from the heat and the pleasure that only his touching of her loins was giving her. He then entered two fingers inside of her slit, and  _ooh how nice it feels, how nice he feels._ As his fingers, now three, were moving  in and out of her, she took hold of his mouth again and sucked on his lower lip. her eyes were shut, she then lowered her hand holding his hand feeling his fingers inside of her and moving with the same rhythm.

she whispered his name over and over again in his ear interrupted by her heavy pantings and breathings and constant movings “Jon..Jon…oohh.. Jon..” she murmured until she heard a voice loud and clear that took her away from her pleasures..

“Your grace,..your grace can you hear me..” Missandei was saying standing next to her bed.

Dany opened her eyes. IT WAS A DREAM!  she gasped and realized her hand and fingers were in between her private parts wet with her release under the covers. She immediately got seated in bed, shameful of her actions and wondering how much Missandei heard and saw. Missandei had a faint smile on her face. Dany was quiet.

“your grace, we are waiting for you for breakfast and the Dothraki army already left after midnight for The Reach. Drogon is getting fed right now and we are waiting for your presence.” Missandei told her and walked to the door. 

Dany got out of the bed, drank a glass of water, still shook how real her dream was and how real he felt above her, in between her, on her face, his smell and heavy breathing to her neck,  _was that all a dream?_. Missandei turned to Dany and said “Lord Snow too is there to wish his good luck to you” Missandei said with a big smile on her face, Dany knew she had heard she was her shameful lusty dream of Jon and panting his name. But she trusted Missandei that she wouldn’t betray her.

It was time to leave on the back of Drogon, She was on the top of the hill talking one last time to Missandei as Tyrion had taken off with the Dothraki army and trying not to look at Jon Snow. But with no avail, Jon Snow approached her with Davos. She felt embarrassment as if he knew that she was in his room and later she touched herself dreaming of him. 

“I wish you a good fortune, your grace” Jon Snow spoke with a smile on his face. 

“Thank..” she cleared her throat “Thank you, my lord” Dany replied avoiding eye contact. 

She was grateful to be gone from Dragonstone although she was heading to war, but the wars of the battle were easier than the wars of her heart. She then climbed on Drogon and flew away. 

Even though it was shameful but she loved every minute of him in her dreams and in his rooms. 


	2. The King in the North

 

The sweat was forming on his forehead as he was bent below a wall in the narrow cave mining, carving dragonglass. His clothes were hurting him, feeling uncomfortable, almost annoyed. He started pushing harder on the chisel, pushing, poking at the hard groves in desperation. Something was burning in him, deeply. He dropped his equipment from his hands, feeling suffocated, and ran to the exit of the cave. Some of the soldiers looked up to him in wonder.

He was finally out on the sand beach. He bent over, holding his legs, breathing, gasping for air, sweat moldering his skin with hot salt and acid. He straightened himself now looking around. Except from some Dothraki soldiers who were bringing boxes in and out of the cave, the beach was relatively empty. He walked across slowly, twitching his gloved hands, remembering the day the queen had asked him of his opinion whether or not to attack King's Landing. He wanted to remember.

His boots digging in the sad, he paced, wanting to stand exactly at the same spot as he had that day, closing his eyes remembering queen's violet's pleading him for an answer, desperate. He was intrigued, surprised on her sudden trust in his advice. He never considered himself a great politician although he was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and now the King in the North. He followed his instincts, military strategies and heart. Maybe that was the problem. 

Wanting to feel her breath again, the closeness of their skins, her heat radiating towards him as she spoke, watching her children.  _She loves them_ , he thought, a smile forming on his face. He then heard the distant screeching of Rhaegal flying close to him. The beast was golden, smaller than Drogon, but still impressive. Jon watched Rhaegal in awe for a while seeing Daenerys in him. Her presence ever so prominent now, she was there, flying in Rhaegal. The beast was gorgeous just like his mother.

Why did he feel this way towards the queen. Did he love her. He was not sure of anything. When he was younger, he was certain of things, with Ygritte, it had been different, but this woman, with her lilac eyes, strong will, difficult temper, and determination was another story. He had always loved warrior women. As a green boy, he used to read tales of Visenya, Nymeria, and many other Targaryen princesses who rode dragons, fought side by side of their men. He had always loved strong women and Daenerys was no different.

Listening to the waves crashing, his breathings evened, Rhaegeal screeching came as a promise. Daenerys was going to come back. He knew it, wanted it, hoped for it. Something in him was not complete now, emptiness looming over his brooding heart, and loneliness of his days. Sudden melancholy roamed over him, as he decided to walk to his rooms. 

When he entered the stone walled castle, his boots made sorrowful taps reminding him of the absence of her queen, a hollowness in his heart and in the rooms. 

He walked pass the dining room, lingering around for a while by the side of the door, not showing himself to anyone. He saw Missandei speaking with Varys as they nibbled on their lunch food. Davos was nowhere around. Jon forgot about the time, and place. He did not care much anymore. He walked by, leaving them speak.

He was longing for the queen strangely enough. Ever since he saw her on the throne, something changed in him. Maybe life is not only about fighting for the good of the realm, he was very aware of the basic pleasures, and maybe life is only about living the life itself, simply by being with the person you love. He didn’t love her, but this overwhelming feeling of heartbeats, long stares, stomach churning, blood rushing to parts of his body that would shame a man was all too much whenever he would spend time with the queen. Now, she wasn’t around. Almost nothing exciting for him other than the mundane work of working in the volcanic Mountain.

It was dark outside now. Before getting to his rooms for a nice bath, he felt himself shifting towards the queen’s chambers. This was a risky plan, stupid, boyish, impulsive, but all he thought about was to feel closer to her, hoping her scent would linger on the door of her rooms. With shame and guilt, he walked fast, but not loud, checking the hallways to see if anyone was around. When he got closer to the door, he realized it was crooked open and there was light inside. He furrowed his brow. The queen surely hadn’t come yet. Who was in there then? He heard giggles of two women and sound of things shuffling around. Two servant girls were cleaning. He pulled back thinking about his next step, when the girls opened the door suddenly. The servant girl was carrying a basket of Daenery’s dirty shifts, and seeing the King close up to her, she shifted back gasping in startle.

“M'lord!!” she gasped and stumbled.

Jon didn’t know what to say, he bowed, pursing his lips and walked past them. The servants surprised, they walked away closing the door behind and murmured low words to each other that he couldn’t decipher. Surely, this was embarrassing, but he had taken the risk by coming here. When the voices died down, he walked back to her room. And realized something was glowing in the dark on the floor. He leaned in to see what it was and to his amazement, it was one of Daenery’s shifts that fell on the floor when the servant gasped. He was scared to touch it in the beginning, but thinking this would be a good excuse to talk to the queen other than politics or maybe he was ought to return it back to the servant girl without disturbing. He picked it up, feeling the softness of it under his fingertips. He stood up now, holding it in his hands, rubbing his thumbs around it imagining her wearing this, and only this when she goes to bed at night. The shift was sheer and the thought stirred emotions and heat in him. Fearing to get caught, he walked fast to his chambers now tugging the cloth in his hands.

When he arrived, he got in and locked his door behind. His breathing was increasing, and slowly he brought the shift closer to his nose and sniffed it. In a different time, this would’ve brought shame to him, but he wasn’t able to control himself with Daenerys anymore. He wanted all of her, every part of her with him, in him, around him. Her scent was branded on the shift, he closed his eyes feeling her presence, wanting to touch her white skin, smooth surface of her stomach, those white silky hairs and yank those braids away to see them flow down. This was wrong and weird. He pulled back the piece of clothing from his nose and put it on his bed, feeling embarrassed. Scratching the nape of his neck, he decided to get rid of those feelings and went ahead to take a bath.

After his bath, he only wore his underwear but looking at the shift, he decided there’s no harm in keeping it for the night, he surely will return it tomorrow morning. But for now, he wanted to keep her by his side. He slipped under his covers, with his bare torso, hugging Daenerys’s shift. Once under the covers, there was no shame anymore, He sniffed it some more thinking how he would love to kiss her, trace his hands over her curves touching her on her most sensitive areas, and hear her low whimpers wondering if she would be loud and slipping his hands under her shift. The thought of her pinky folds threw a surge of blood to his groins, wanting to kiss her there, he was panting low now as he ran a hand over his swollen hard member. His frustration was growing as his member was getting more painful, needing her, wanting her, the thought of her warm inside, the slickness of her folds. He was not sure if she would want him the same way he was at that moment, nevertheless, he put the shift on his side pillow delicately, as if handling a fine piece of glassware. Sighing heavily, not wanting what he was about to do, but he had to release himself otherwise he was going to explode, the pain was unbearable. He quickly opened his breeches and hissed as he touched how hard he had been down there. Even as a boy, he hadn’t wanted a woman with this much desire and lust as he was begging her touch in this night.

The scent of her shift was lingering around in his nose, closing his eyes, he took himself in his hand and started with slow strokes at first, not wanting to do it, the shame was holding him back. His free hand went to touch her shift again, and this was his undoing. Thinking of her silky hairs falling on her bare shoulders, firm breasts and her violet eyes poking at him with pouty lips, he groaned suddenly. His hand started moving faster, with both hands now, leaving her pure shift on his side, as he imagined entering her hot, juicy slit. He turned himself around, resting on his knees, facing the pillow and bucking his hip as he continued his fast strokes, then turned to his side, eyes shut as he took her in every way he would want, on her back, on her knees, on her side. Sweat was forming on his body as he felt premature juices starting to coat his fingers. He hummed and moaned louder now, the covers that were on him fell to the side exposing his bare skin to the coldness of the night. Her shift was lying on the pillow, he leaned down, resting his face on it, burying it in her folds, between her thighs, all of her sweet forbidden areas that he would like to tear them open, break her in half almost with desire to find himself, to finally be able to reach home. His breathings were uneven, stroking his length up and down as fast as he could go, playing with the tip, with his balls, not feeling shame anymore, he wasn’t a man of the Night’s Watch, he was a bloody king and he craved this woman, not the queen, just the woman, the sweet pale skinned girl. He was facing his pillow, hips pushing back and forth moving frantically against his hands when he came with a loud shatter, letting his gutters fill the pillow as the pain and pleasure surged out of him all at once, wetting his hands and the sheets of his bed below in consecutive strokes, he continued until all of him was out releasing his desire for now, for the night.

Sighing, humming and moaning, as his breathings evened out, feeling very weak, he fell on his back on the other side, eyes closed, chest heaving, sweat glowing on his muscular chest coated in his heightened sensation of his surroundings. After some time of coming back down to Earth, he opened his eyes, realizing he was lying on Daenery’s shift, he quickly moved off of it, and put it gently on the edge of the bed under the pillow. He had half a smile on his face now, finding his calmness and peace. He rubbed his hands on his dirty sheets that needed to be washed tomorrow, and turned on his side. He then took Daenery’s clothe in his hand, hugging it to his torso, feeling the pure silk on his skin, ever so feeling her, and with a faint smile on his face, he dozed off to his peaceful slumber.

The next morning felt brighter to him, the sun warmer, everything more beautiful. Before heading to breakfast, he tugged Daenerys’s shift under his gambeson, and walked to the servants’ quarter, trying to find the area where they do the washings. He quickly went downstairs, trying not to show himself to anyone. He hid hearing two people talking, and waited until their voices died down. He moved around looking for the basket of that servant and was no way around. As he desperately looked for it, the same servant girl who’d seen her the day before came in and was surprised to see the King in the North down here. 

“M'lord! Is there anything I could help you with?” the girl asked.

He sensed her suspicion and cursed his luck under his lips. “Aye, I was looking for the dirty clothes basket, I..I have something I’d like it to be washed” He didn’t remove the shift fearing her revelation of his shameful acts of last night.

“I could collect the for you, m'lord, I could.…”

Jon interrupted her. “No need. I can perfectly throw this in the basket” he took it out, it was folded, she wouldn’t be able to tell, clenching it in his fist. “Just show me where” his voice was firm.

She was startled, and her face became pale. “In this room your grace, next to the door, your basket is the one on the left. We like to..”

Before she finished, he moved past her, the girl gasped, and he walked to the other room. There were a few baskets, if his was on the left, the other one next to it was still full. He looked around if someone was around, and quickly he sniffed some of the clothes in the other one, and saw silky hair strands on some, he smiled knowing this was her. He fumbled the clothe in hand mixing it with the others. Finally, this was done, he straightened himself and walked back with fast pace to get out of here as soon as possible. 

She was gone to her rooms to get changed, and was going to join them for supper to discuss their plans moving forward with this victory against Cersei. He was in the council room around the carved table, alone. He remembered the events of last night, his concerns of Daenery’s not coming back, and how happy he was right now. He bathed in his satiated feelings for a while, all the while saying his gratefulness to the gods he didn’t believe in. He stood up a foolish thought taking his senses over. He walked fast now in the stone corridors and stood up in front of her room. He instantly regretted his decision, not knowing what to tell her. He knocked on her door nevertheless and swallowed hard.

Missandei opened the door. “Your grace” 

“Can I have a word with the queen?” he heard himself say as nervousness was looming all over his limbs. 

“She is getting read but you could wait for her in her solar, if you’d like, she should be finishing soon” Missandei said and he swore he saw a smirk on the caramel colored girl’s face. 

Jon was only able to nod. Missandei opened the door wide for him, and he entered with nervousness looking around. 

There was a big couch, a table filled with papers, letters, candles on them, a big chair behind it. Her scent that he was familiar with, the same one of her shift, had filled the room. He sat on an armchair, on the edge in nervousness. He still was not sure why he had demanded her audience. They had just been together hours earlier. Would she be surprised, suspect his intentions, the worse, she could shun him out of her life and not be able to steal glances from her anymore. All his thoughts were swimming in his head.

Missandei went back to the room, leaving a creak open behind. There was a light underneath the door, and murmurs, and water running. He knew she was behind those doors. As much as he resisted his urge, he finally gave in and got up slowly and walked towards the door. He swallowed hard when he saw Daenerys seated on a chair, her legs spread open, her body was covered only with a soft shift, falling from her soldiers, covering her breasts. Her legs were bare, the hem of the shift had gone to her thighs, her hands and arms were rested on the sides of the chair. Some of her braids had gone looser. Jon felt blood running directly to his swollen member. He had never seen this much beautiful sight in his life, and the fragrant of the oils coming from the room filled his nose. He clutched his fist, feeling the dilation of his pupils as he kept watching her. She was looking at Missandei, who kneeled in front of her, holding a wet cloth. The girl started scraping the blood and mud from the inside of Daenery’s thighs. 

He looked away and ran a hand over his swollen member behind the door, away from the creak. He was breathing heavily, he would never forget this sight. Daenery’s bare legs getting cleaned from the dirt and smoke caused by mounting Drogon. How he desired that he would do this to her, run his fingers up her thigh until he would reach her sweet spot, stroke her there, lick her, rub her, poke her with his fingers and watch her moan in his mouth, feel her around her with her scents covering, rubbing against his body. He was getting harder, to stop himself, he started breathing and focused on it. But unable to resist his urge, he peaked in again. To his surprise, she wasn’t sitting there anymore. Immediately, he walked to the armchair and took his regular seat trying to hide his swollen member from sight thanking the gods of his gambeson that was covering parts of his trousers. 

The door opened as he had suspected. The queen appeared wearing the shift he saw and a dark night gown covering her bare parts above her. Her hands were holding them closing his view off of her chest and front of her body. Parts of her hair was wet, some braids were undone, and her long braid was loose letting her silky strands cover her entire back. She was beautiful. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, he stood there foolishly watching her, lips parted, unable to say a word. She watched him as well, and a smile appeared on her face. Missandei was standing behind her. 

Daenerys finally broke their silence. “To what do I owe your presence, Jon Snow. Any urgent matter? “Dany asked, and eyed Missandei to leave them. The girl bowed and left them alone closing the door behind. 

Jon cleared his throat and averted his eyes from her so he could speak. “Your grace” and before he could speak, he noticed her two hands were wrapped in white cloth. He narrowed his gaze on them, and then continued his stuttering, prolonging this madness.

“I wanted to make sure you were feeling better from earlier, and if there is anything I could do to take your pains away” he regretted the entire sentence the minute he finished uttering. He felt stupid, wanting to beat himself.

Daenerys smiled faintly with her rosy cheeks. 

“I am feeling much better. The bath surely helps with dirt, and smoke” she said nervously, and both remained standing in the room.

She walked closer to him now, and let some of the dark heavy gown slip from her hands and open her shoulders. He swallowed hard, she saw it and walked closer to him.

“Thank you for your concern. I really appreciate your presence here, in my rooms.” Her voice got lower, standing right in front of him, their eyes were locked for a while, he then hovered his gaze over her face, studying it. She had small freckles, he hadn’t noticed, her lilac eyes were bigger, and her pouty lips was to be worshipped and kissed only. 

He looked away in shame and bit his lower lip lightly, she was watching him, he noticed her eyes traveling there. 

“I..I will leave you to it then.” He managed to say. There was a clear tension between them. He was feeling it, but was she feeling this too? She was standing very close to him, able to smell her fragrant. He then saw her hands moving down from the place that she was holding her gown. Still looking at each other, she let go of her hands loose on her sides. Her gown opened, still held on her body. He didn’t want to look at her, but he did. The edge of her white shift was covering her breasts, giving him some cleavage. Her nipples were poking through the sheet, she was aroused, he knew it then. Their breathings increased, uneven. He heard her panting, she walked a bit closer, and hovered her eyes over his face, staying it still over his mouth. He lowered his eyes down her body, the shift had covered the other parts, but he had seen her bare legs moments earlier. 

Unable to resist himself, he leaned in to her face, their mouths inches apart from each other, not kissing, but taking each other’s heat and senses in. She then held his hand, lightly, and rubbed her thumb over the back of it and lowered her gaze watching her action. Her neck was to him, and he smelled her in, watching her collarbone, yearning to kiss her there. He tightened the grip on her hand and held her other hand from the other side. She turned to his face now, her brows wrinkled, she was begging him to do something, but none of them spoke. This was wrong, both knew that much. 

He then felt her cheek rub against his cheek, as she supported herself on his hands, and leaned up towards him almost hugging him. She rubbed the side of her cheek on his and he was certain she kissed his neck, but the sensation was too overwhelming for him to feel or be aware of anything that was happening. He rubbed her back, smelling her neck, the edge of her shoulders, she was smooth, pure just as he had imagined and even better. He gently kissed below her ear, hearing her hiss. She broke their hands and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. Her breasts were pressing against his gambeson, he wrapped his hands around her waist in return, stroking her lightly. She was small, but curvy, he loved the feel of her, as he traced his hand over her shoulder and waist trying to feel as much as he could through her shift. 

She then pulled back and cradled his face, looking into his eyes then to his mouth. He was sure now, they both wanted to kiss each other. She tilted her head getting her mouth closer to his, he felt her breathing on his lips, it was quick, and fast. She was scared, seeing doubt and fear in her eyes, he didn’t want to do anything she didn’t want letting her take control. Her hand caressed the sides of his face still gazing to his mouth. 

“please” she whispered. His lips parted at this sudden pleading. She was in pain, and needed him. 

He gently leaned in and planted a faint superficial kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes then, her hands were shaking. Then, he deepened their kiss, but still shallow, not entering her mouth. She kissed him back like a young girl kissing for the first time, awkward, tumbling. This lasted only a few seconds but felt like a lifetime for him as he held her waist and kissed her brushing his lips over hers. He then broke their kiss, unable to go further as the sense of duty took over him. This was wrong, both knew, it shouldn’t happen like this in this room, in the middle of their problems and tension. When he opened his eyes, he saw a tear fall down her cheek from her closed eyes. Her lips parted, she then looked at him blinking. She knew it then, he had to stop, they had to stop. She slowly untangled her hands from his sides, letting the suspended tears fall down. She took her gown that was falling off of her, and wrapped it as before. 

Jon didn’t know what to do, they looked at each other, sadly, begging each other to continue, hoping one of them would be braver enough to kiss the other, resume it to the end, go all the way without care. But both were aware of this impossibility of the situation at the moment. He hadn’t even bend the knee to her. He pushed his gambeson down, straightening it, and looked away from her.

Was this going to complicate everything now? Or were they going to continue as before? The military alliance was a must for Jon to win against the Northern threat, and he bowed to her awkwardly not looking at her face, and moved pass her. She let him go. He rested his hand on the handle and turned to her, both looking at each other, she had moved closer to him, eyes glassy with tears, he then nodded understanding her pain that echoed his and opened the door, closing it behind him. 

He stopped himself in the empty corridor, and sobbed loudly against a wall, he opened his mouth and gulped in air as he groaned through his throat, cursing his fate. He stood there until his breathings evened out, and felt angry at this, at his life, and the fact that he had to leave her longing, but she hadn’t moved either. 

He walked faster now, out of the castle, and to the beach. Standing at the edge of the waves on the sand, he closed his eyes to remember her kiss, her touch, and scent. 

Life was not fair for both of them, but one thing assured him is that she wanted him, as much as he wanted her, and this was enough for now. A pity consolation to his miserable life. 


End file.
